


Camp Half-Voltron

by monarchlark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Camp Half-Blood AU, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Kidge - Freeform, So is Haggar, coran is the bestest pony, how to even tag, i guess, i wrote this instead of sleeping x10, more tags to be added later, n hunay, n laxum, screw grammar, space mice more like space satyrs, w a side of shallura, zarkon is (still) a jerk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 14:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15002495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monarchlark/pseuds/monarchlark
Summary: allura: welcome to camp half-blood, we have glowy knives-keith: alright im inallura:-n endless food n drink goblets-hunk: i have been calledallura: -and laser guns that arent laser guns-lance: hello did someone say my nameallura: -oh and a lava climbing tower.pidge:pidge: what the actual quiznakAKA the self indulgent camp half-blood kidge au no one needed





	Camp Half-Voltron

If one more harpy so much as looked at her, Katherine “Pidge” Holt was going to scream.

“We just have to make it past that big pine over there!” yelled Chulatt as he swung his pipes at the screeching bird women bombarding them. The feathered menaces had descended out of nowhere, claws flashing and battering against them. Pidge struck out blindly, trying her best to swat the harpies away, or (even better) punch one’s nose off. Feathers and shrieks filled the air as the two sides battled it out, scratching and nipping and bludgeoning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a third harpy flash down to join the first two, only to be distracted as a harpy mouth snapped uncomfortably close to her fingers.

“Look out!” Chulatt screamed, and the satyr quickly pulled out his pipe and blowing a few quick, sharp notes on it. The grass around them writhed up, grabbing at the third harpy, as she swooped ferociously towards Pidge’s face. Dodging the grass, she screeching triumphantly and sunk her talons into Pidge’s arms. The other two ceased their attacks on Pidge’s fingers and seized her other arm. Pidge screamed, her arms burning in pain, as the harpies heaved themselves into the air, dragging her up with them. Chulatt gasped, eyes darting panickedly from side to side before he blew a single piercing note on his panpipes. The wildly waving tendrils of grass reared up and caught Pidge’s ankles, halting the harpies’ ascent. The harpies squawked angrily as they beat their wings harder, and Pidge felt the grass around her ankles loosen. Panicking, she wildly flailed her arms around, trying to dislodge the the harpies’ needle-sharp talons from her arms. Looking down, Pidge saw Chulatt’s eyes narrow in determination as he blew a few more piercing notes. Just as the grass’ hold on her ankle began to loosen, a third tendril shot up, reinforcing their hold on her. Chulatt paled and slumped down against the grassy hill, seemingly spent. Even with three grass ropes pulling her down, Pidge knew that sooner or later the harpies would out-power them. _C’mon, think Pidge! There’s got to be a way out of this, I just have to find it._ The tight grip on her right ankle was slowly loosening. _Here goes nothing._ Quickly, using her arms as leverage, she tore her feet free of the vines. Using the momentum, she flipped her feet over herself, kicking a harpy square in the face.

“Take that, you birdbrain!” whooped Pidge. The other two harpies squawked in surprise, loosening their hold. Pidge writhed and twisted, fighting to free her arms. And then suddenly she was plummeting, dropping towards the hillside. She screamed, waking up Chulatt seconds before she collided with him.

“Incomiiiing!” _Whump._ Pidge wheezed as she felt all the breath get knocked out of her lungs. From under her, Chulatt bleated exasperatedly,

“Blah-ha-ha. I did not sign up for this...” Pidge took several deep breaths as she rolled off of the goat-man, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. Her arms felt as though they’d gone through a meat grinder. Chulatt quickly regained his bearings as he grabbed his pipes and Pidge’s arm.

“Quick, up the hill!” She was almost yanked off her feet as Chulatt half-dragged her up the hill. The two sprinted up the slope, pursued by three very annoyed harpies. Chulatt dove for the tree, dragging Pidge down with him, as behind them, the shrieks of irritated harpy got closer. _Thud. Thud, thud._ The harpies slammed straight into an invisible barrier, and slowly fluttered to the ground in dazed feathery heaps.

“Well, that was a close one.” A man with a bright orange mustache and the lower half of a horse with a silver-haired girl perched on his back came galloping up, followed by several kids holding bows and quivers.

“My apologies, Chulatt, we heard a commotion and we weren’t exactly sure what it was. If we had known, we would have come to your aid.”

“It’s fine Coran. We made it in one piece.” Coran, the centaur, turned around and helped the girl off his back. She landed gracefully in the grass, dress pooling neatly around her. She smiled brightly at Pidge,

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, my name is Allura Altea, your camp director, and this is Coran- he’s the activities director.” Allura shook hands with Pidge,

“Um, my name’s Katherine Holt, but I prefer going by Pidge.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Pidge. Chulatt, why don’t you accompany Pidge to the Big House while we wait for Platt, Plachule, and Chuchule to arrive. There should be a glass of nectar waiting.” Chulatt gave a quick salute, before trotting off in the direction of a large farmhouse. Pidge was completely unprepared for the sight that awaited her as she stepped around Allura to follow Chulatt,

“Wait, tell me that’s not a lava climbing tower.” Allura grinned mischievously,

“I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t be.”

 

“Plachu’s late.” remarked Platt as he stared worriedly at the two empty seats. Beside him sat a rather large boy, nervously twiddling his thumbs, who looked to be about a few years older than Pidge. The other boy was tall and lanky; his relaxed frame seemed to take up much more space than it actually did. The silence hung thick in the air as Pidge tried not to meet anyone’s eyes. The satyrs were excitedly chattering with each other, animatedly recounting tales of their hearrowing Searches. When they finally noticed their human charges’ silence, Chuchule nervously bleated, breaking the quiet,

“Well, why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves? I’m Chuchule.” Chuchule looked to his left at Pidge, who sighed,

“I’m Katherine Holt, but you can call me Pidge.”

“The name’s Lance. Lance McClain.”

“I’m Chuchule.”

“Uh, my name is Hunk Garrett.”

“Platt.”

The room descended into a heavy awkward silence again, punctuated every now and then by the impatient, somewhat smothered tapping of Lance’s foot hitting the carpet. Platt grabbed Pidge’s empty nectar glass and bit into it, sighing contentedly as the sound of crunching glass filled the room. Hunk looked as though he were about to throw up as he watched his satyr guide contentedly chomping away at the glass shards.

“Um, isn’t that kind of a… health risk? Like, doesn't the glass get stuck in your tongue?” Hunk turned positively green as Platt gave a loud crunch and swallowed,

“What was that? Can’t hear you over the sound of my stomach. I'm positively starving!”

“More like the sound of your teeth breaking,” muttered Pidge as she leaned against the comfy armrest, ignoring the slight burn in her arms.

“So what is this place anyways?” Lance leaned forward as he directed his question at the three satyrs. Chulatt waited for Platt to stop crunching before answering,

“Camp Half-Blood. It’s a safe place for demigods, where they are trained to learn how to survive in the outside world. It's also a place for you to discover who your godly parent is. As you already know, Allura and Coran are the directors. They put a lot of work int-”

“But what’s so dangerous out there?”

“Monsters.” The door to the Big House was flung wide open, and the sunlight briefly illuminated the three figures standing in the doorway. Coran ducked as he stepped inside grinning cheerfully, followed by Allura and a rather grumpy looking boy. Chulatt leapt up,

“Where’s Plachu?” Allura motioned out the door,

“He’s waiting outside. I’m sure you four have a lot of catching up to do.” She stepped aside to allow the three satyrs to file out. Coran nudged the new boy forward,

“Alright everyone, this is Keith Kogane. Keith, meet Hunk, Lance, and Pidge.” Coran pointed at each of them in turn.

“So, welcome again to Camp Half-Blood. First things first, do you have any questions?” Allura took a seat as she gazed at them expectantly. Pidge opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Keith,

“So why are we here?”

“This is a safe haven for demigods like you, where you are trained to be able to take on monsters and are taught the necessary skills for survival in the outside world.” At the word, monsters, Hunk gulped and raised his hand,

“Um, no offense, but are you sure I- we’re demigods? And what does that even mean anyways? And what do you mean by… monsters? Like, monsters as in clowns or those scary flaming demon ladies? Oh no, don't tell me we had to fight those fruit babies! Just one was enough!” Hunk groaned and burried his face in his hands. It was Coran who answered this time,

“Well, a demigod is the offspring between a mortal and a god. You will retain some weakened abilities of your godly parent; however, you are by no means immortal. And yes, I am absolutely sure that you- all of you- are demigods. That’s the reason why you keep getting attacked by monsters like harpies, karpois, and empousa, to name a few” Hunk slumped against the couch, seemingly still in shock as his mind struggled to accept the overload of information. Or perhaps the thought of angry lady birds had terrified him into silence. Lance’s hand shot up,

“You said god. Do you mean like God or mythology stuff?”

“I meant the Greek gods-”

“But what if we’re Catholic or atheist or whatever? I mean, aren’t they just stories to explain why stuff happened?”

“No, the Greek gods are very much real, and they are very much at work all around us. You see, they are immortal, and that hasn’t changed a bit over the centuries. You may not like it or believe it, but all of you are living proof that the gods exist.” Pidge leaned forward, mind racing as everything she had known and followed by was turned upside down. Lance spoke again,

“So what now?”

“Well, first things first, we’ll get you situated in the Hermes cabin, although you may have to grab your things and go if you are claimed at dinner, but that’s another story. And then we’ll give you a tour of the camp before we get you outfitted at the armory. After all of that, you should be ready.” Lance quirked his head,

“Ready for what?” Coran grinned,

“Dinner of course!”

 

The armory was a dimly lit and filled to bursting with weapons. It's interior and exterior resembled a large warehouse, although instead of boxes on its shelves, they were stocked with rows upon rows of weapons and other war-making necessities. From battle axes so large they took up entire sections of the walls, to paper thin blowgun darts no bigger than your pinky, the room bristled with instruments of death. Keith stepped inside and took in the sight, his eyes scanning the walls. Coran stepped past, rambling on about the history of each weapon.

“Ah, you see this sword here. It’s quite a fine specimen, made from celestial bronze. As you can see, most of the weapons here are made from celestial bronze, but every now and then you’ll find some stygian iron, or maybe even imperial gold. Those are the only known metals so far that will be able to vaporize monsters, as mortal steels will only pass through them. But anyways, this sword was wielded by-”

“Wait,” Keith reached into his belt and pulled out a faintly glowing dagger, “Will this work?” Coran looked shocked as he took the dagger and, pulling a monocle out from his jacket, thoroughly examined it,

“ _Di immortales_! How’d you get your hands on a stygian iron blade?” Keith snatched his dagger back and tucked it back into his belt,

“That doesn’t matter.”

 

Off in another corner of the armory, Lance had gotten his hands on a crossbow. Hunk nervously crouched behind a shield as Lance swung around the crossbow, pretending to shoot at imaginary enemies.

“Pow, pow pow! And Lancey Lance saves the day again.” Keith rolled his eyes,

“What was that supposed to be? You’re holding a crossbow, not a laser gun.” Pidge laughed as she took the crossbow, miming firing it,

“Besides, everyone knows laser guns sound more like ‘pichoo pichoo’.”

“What, no you’re crazy,” Lance snatched back the weapon and pretended to shoot her and Keith, “Everyone knows that laser guns make ‘pow pow’ sounds!” Pidge rolled her eyes as she dramatically fell to the floor,

“Well have you ever heard a laser gun?”

“No! But that’s not the point!” Behind her, Keith snorted and twirled his knife with practiced ease.

“Alright you lot, found anything you like yet,” Coran came trotting up behind them, frowning when he saw that Pidge and Hunk were empty-handed, “For now we can just issue you standard swords and shields if you can’t find anything to your preference.” Pidge and Hunk nodded as Coran began pulling shields off the wall, muttering softly to himself (ah a size 7, two size 5s, and where’d the fun-sized one go?)

 

Pidge tugged at the hem of her newly-issued Camp Half-Blood shirt. _I feel like a walking traffic cone._ Lance and Hunk emerged from the male restrooms, with Lance stopping to yell back at Keith,

“C’mon, we gotta hurry if we want to make it to dinner on time.” Lance stood at the door, impatiently tapping his foot. Pidge dusted off her knees as she stood up and headed for the dining area, followed by Hunk. Keith stayed where he was,

“No one asked you to wait.” Lance huffed,

“Alright fine, be like that.”

 

Dinner was a lively affair. The open air pavilion was filled with campers in a sea of orange. At the back of the pavilion stood a giant bronze brazier, about the size of a bathtub, in which every now and then a camper would throw in part of his or her meal. ‘A tribute to the gods’ as Coran had put it. Pidge didn't see what was so 'honoring' about receiving someone's burnt leftovers- but who was she to judge? She perched precariously on the end of the Hermes' cabin table bench, ignoring Keith’s dirty looks as she unconsciously invaded his personal space as she desperately tried her best not to fall off. Across from them, Lance and Hunk seemed to be getting along grandly as chattered about everything from life back home to how delicious the food was. Pidge sighed. Even though it had been a month or so since she had left home, she still dearly missed her father.

“Sorry about the squeeze. We’ve had fewer claimings than usual and more demigods making it here in one piece. Oh and have you tried filling your goblet yet? Here it’s pretty simple.” The Hermes camper chattered excitedly- S something (Sam? Scott? Steven?), Pidge hadn’t been paying attention when he’d introduced himself.

“See watch. Water please.” Hunk gasped as the goblet began to fill with water,

“Can we make anything appear?” The other camper shrugged,

“I think it only works for liquids, but if you have any requests, I’m sure you can take it up with the dryads. Here ask Saffra.” When the said wood nymph walked up, Hunk began animatedly describing his idea to the overwhelmed dryad. Pidge laughed, then turned her attention back to her own goblet. _I wonder if this fancy cup can get me some of Dad’s peanut butter milkshakes. Here goes nothing._

“Um, Sam Holt’s special peanut butter milkshake please.” The goblet gave a little shake, before pooling with the creamiest milkshake Pidge had ever seen. She gave a happy sigh as the smell of peanut butter filled the air. A nymph handed her a straw (100% biodegradable, Camp Half-Blood Dryad Approved) and Pidge eagerly took a sip of her drink.

“What’s that?” Hunk leaned forward and peered into her goblet.

“It’s my dad’s special peanut butter milkshake- otherwise known as the world’s greatest drink.”

“Oooh I’ve got to try this! May I have some of Pidge’s dad’s milkshake please?” Hunk beamed as he watched the goblet fill up, then took a sip and closed his eyes in ecstasy.

“Is it good?”

“This is beyond good! Man your dad must be a genius! You’ll have to give me the recipe sometime!” Pidge grinned as she clinked her goblet against his in agreement.

“Alright campers,” Coran stood up, towering over everyone on his four legs, “I have a few announcements to make. First of all, seeing as our Capture the Flag game is tomorrow, I feel inclined to remind you all that maiming and killing is strictly prohibited and will result in the loss of desert privileges for a week. The second piece of news is that we have four new campers among us today! Hunk, Keith, Lance, and Pidge, will you please stand up?” Pidge slowly got to her feet, cringing internally as she felt everyone turn to stare at them. Even Lance seemed a bit put out by the sudden attention, but he quickly regained his composure, flashing everyone with his signature grin,

“The name’s Lance.” The rest of them stood in cowed silence, before Hunk cleared his throat and managed to squeak out a “Um, I’m Hunk.”

“I’m Katie, but you can call me Pidge,” Pidge winced as her voice cracked at the end. She was a harpy-butt kicking tech genius, not a freaking seventh grader.

“Keith.” They were greeted with cheers and enthusiastic clapping, with some campers even whistling loudly. One table, she believed it to be the Apollo cabin, began chanting their names as they whooped and hollered. Suddenly, the noise ceased, and the campers sitting at a back table gasped. Pidge looked around, confused and slightly worried, before she realized Lance was glowing hot pink.

“Uh, Coran? What’s happening?” The pink exploded to a point where it became blinding to look at, and when the light cleared, Pidge was at a loss for words. Lance had… changed. Actually, changed was an understatement. It was as if someone had suddenly somehow magnified all of his finer physical qualities. His skin positively glowed under the blazing fire from the torches. Instead of his casual jacket and jeans, a toga had been draped over his wiry frame, emphasizing his leanness. Pidge heard several girls gasp and swoon, and even a few wolf whistles. Coran fingered his mustache cheerily,

“Well, Lance, congratulations! You’re a child of Aphrodite!”

“Hold on what? Afro-die- I didn’t catch that- what?”

“He said Aphrodite- did the new outfit come with ear plugs or what?” Keith rolled his eyes, and Pidge hid a snicker.

“I’m Colette Moreau, the head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin. We’re all so excited to meet you!” A tall, willowy brunette stood up and made her way over to Lance.

“Uh, who’s we. And where have my clothes gone?” Colette laughed and motioned for the rest of her table to join her,

“We’re your sibs! Or half-siblings at least. You’ll find your clothes on your bed, but don’t expect to be able to change. Mom’s blessing shouldn’t wear off until a day or so, or maybe even a week if your lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it.” Lance let her drag him over to the squealing campers, looking pleasantly surprised. Pidge fought the urge to smile herself, unlike Hunk, who’s grin was almost worthy of Apollo as he shared his newfound friend’s happiness. Keith was scowling, per usual, but, was it just Pidge or did his scowl seem softer?

“Alright, alright everyone,” Coran had to stamp his feet several times before he could call the campers to order, “Sebastian, do you mind getting Pidge, Keith, and Hunk settled?” Sebastian, the camper from earlier nodded,

“Follow me,” they stood up to join the steady flow of campers heading back to their respective cabins,

“Alright, so one thing you should know about us Hermes cabiners. If it’s not tied down, we can steal it. Actually, we could probably still steal it if it was tied down. But anyways, watch your stuff and don’t get too mad if anything turns up missing, because we usually return things. Usually. But yeah, I’m sure you’ll be claimed in no time!” He grinned cheerily as he held the door open for them. Pidge found her sleeping roll tucked in the back corner of the cabin. Keith’s bedroll was next to hers, while Hunk’s was closer to the door. She didn’t bother with changing, too overwhelmed by the day’s events as she flung herself down onto the bright orange sleeping bag.  
“Alright guys, lights out! If I hear so much as one peep, someone’s gonna wake up wondering where their bed’s gone. Just kidding. Not. Good night!” Sebastian flicked a switch, dousing the cabin in darkness, save for the moonlight streaming through one of the windows- until he closed that too. Pidge snuggled up in her cozy sleeping bag, eyelids drooping lower and lower as everything faded into a haze of contentment, and she sank into the subconscious world of dreams. _I wonder how dad’s doing. I’m sure he’s fine, right?_ “Mmph.” Pidge shifted onto her side and let out a yawn. _I wonder what’ll happen tomorrow. Capture the flag, huh. Wonder how that'll go. But first, sleeeeeep…_  

**Author's Note:**

> i'll try to update consistently but no guarantees ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
